The Weasley Twins' Holiday Adventures
by weasleyclock
Summary: HOGWARTS CASTLE, CHRISTMAS BREAK, 1989 With too much time on their hands, and without their mother constantly watching them, now was the perfect time for Fred and George Weasley wreck the havoc of their dreams.
1. Business as Usual

_**HOGWARTS CASTLE 1989**_  
Winter break was fast-approaching at Hogwarts. The windows which once let hot sunlight stream through now only brought chilly breezes. Students no longer complained about their heavy uniforms and instead donned hats and scarves. Fireplaces burned until the early hours of the morning, only to be prodded back to life by a grumbling Filch. Everything seemed to be business as usual at Hogwarts Castle.

However, that was not the case.

Fred and George Weasley planned to take the castle by storm, once they got settled in. It was their first year at Hogwarts, and they were spending the holiday at school. With too much time on their hands, and without Molly Weasley constantly watching them, now was a perfect time to wreck the havoc of their dreams.


	2. Feeble Beginnings

_**MORNING OF DECEMBER FOURTEENTH**_  
It was the last day of school before winter break. Students scrambled to finish up their end-of-term assignments, whilst packing the last of their belongings for the holiday. All throughout, the castle was in a hectic state.

Meanwhile, Fred and George Weasley sat calmly in the center of it all. They were finally in their element.

The first months of the school year had been rough. The twins were used to their sheltered environment at the Burrow, of which they knew every crack and crevice. But Hogwarts, Hogwarts was a whole other ecosystem, and there was so much to learn. With hundreds of rooms and thousands of secrets, there was no way two eleven-year-olds could conquer it all.

Of course, the Weasleys had attempted. In the beginning, they spent their days (and nights) wandering about. Within the first week, they must've broken over a hundred school rules. However, by the end of September, the two needed a different plan of action. Their current model was too risky for the lack of progress they were making.

So the twins decided to hold back and bide their time. Style-wise, this was completely foreign. However, in order to succeed, the change was necessary.

Fred and George had always known that the Great Hall would be their first conquest. Their thoughts had been that the hall was the heart of Hogwarts. Everyone (and especially a Weasley) knew that the way to the heart was through the stomach. But now as they sat side by side on the benches, they began second guessing themselves.

The Great Hall had a certain grandeur and magnificence of which they were just now beginning to grasp. What once seemed like an advantage, now looked like an added challenge. And Fred and George felt as though they were shrinking the more they thought about their pockets stuffed with fireworks and dung bombs.

And yet, the twins were determined. With Fred leading the way, the pair moved to their planned positions. They each pulled out the first dung bomb with shaking hands. One the count of three, the two set off the bombs.

There was a flash of smoke, a putrid odor, and indistinct yelling. The smoke cleared up and the two could finally see who was yelling. Filch had appeared out of nowhere. Now Fred was the one yelling.

"George, run." Before either could make one step, they were both picked up by the collar.

"You'll be coming with me." Filch leered down at them.

As they made their way down to Filch's office, George flashed a terrified look at Fred as if to say

"What now?"


	3. Defiling, Disrupting and Disrespecting

**AFTERNOON OF DECEMBER FOURTEENTH**

The twins had avoided being sent to a teacher's office this year. December fourteenth marked the end of that short streak. Filch dragged them up the stairs, all the while muttering about reinstating old punishments.

"Make them hang by their thumbs like in the old days, that'll do them right." He pulled Fred and George into a dingy windowless room. This must be his office.

A worn-down desk sat in the center of the room. Next to the desk was a threadbare cushion, where Filch's yellow-eyed cat, Mrs. Norris slept. Chains and handcuffs hung behind the desk. They were the only things in the office that weren't falling apart. The floorboards squeaked and Filch's desk looked like it had been corroding for years. The remainder of the room was filled with filing cabinets. Overflowing folders and papers were everywhere. But the chains glimmered. They were well taken care of.

"Let's see now...defiling the castle, disrupting the school, disrespecting the institution.." Filch muttered while scribbling on a piece of parchment. But neither Fred nor George were listening.

In front of them was a box marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous. This was it, the crown jewel of mischief-making. The two made eye contact. They had to get their hands on whatever was inside.

Fred nodded towards George's bulging pocket. He knew what to do. Quick as a flash George threw two more dungbombs.

Filch looked more explosive than the fireworks in the boy's pockets. Mrs. Norris continued to sleep.

"You-" But before Filch could finish his sentence George sprinted out of the office. Filch tripped over boxes following him out.

Fred now had a few precious seconds alone in the office. He dove for the box. Fred grabbed anything he could take and shoved it in his pockets. Just as he stepped out of the room George came flying down the hall, followed by Filch panting after him.

"Let's go, RUN!" George shouted, and grabbed Fred by the collar. They raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time. Finally, they reached the second-floor corridor and took a sharp left. Filch was catching up. Although the twins were faster, Filch had more endurance.

"In here," Fred whispered as best he could without panting. Fred and George pulled open the door of the first unlocked room they could find. The twins hurried in and their jaws dropped.

From floor to ceiling were hundreds of instruments. Wizard and muggle instruments alike were stacked, one on top of another. Although the display was beyond awe-inspiring, there was no time to marvel. They just barely made it behind a full-sized organ before the door squeaked open.

The twins crouched with hands held over their mouths. The irony of staying silent in this particular room was not lost on Fred and George. They could hear Filch's wheezing and the click of his heels. But, after a minute or so, the footsteps faded and the door slammed shut. It was pure luck that Mrs. Norris had still been asleep, otherwise, they would have been caught straight away.

There was no telling how long the Weasleys sat behind the organ. They stretched their cramped muscles, the twins were finally free.

Unfortunately, not quite. Floating in the middle of the room, was Peeves. He had entered the room whilst the twins were hiding.

"Ooh, lookie here. Ickle firsties got into some mischief I see." A wicked smile spread across his face. "Looks like you're avoiding a certain someone. Me thinks you two need to pay for what you've done." Before Fred or George could stop him, Peeves made an ear-splitting ruckus, hitting piano keys at random, playing an extremely shrill flute, and flinging a harpsichord across the room. The twins should have known, of course, this would be Peeves' favorite haunt.

Just as Filch came running in, Peeves turned invisible.

"Oh, I've got you this time." There was no escaping now. Filch pulled the Weasleys out of the room. But instead of going back up the stairs to his office, he turned the corner.

"Oy, where we going?" Fred asked, but Filch responded with a nasty grin. He pulled them through a wing of the castle neither twin had been in yet, and into a room smaller than the classrooms.

Sitting at her desk was a stern-faced Professor McGonagall.


	4. Shrouded by Dissapointment

**EVENING OF DECEMBER FOURTEENTH**

Fred and George must have sat silently in McGonagall's office for over an hour. They could hear her and Filch talking, but none of what they were saying. Finally, Professor McGonagall strode in. Filch shuffled in behind her.

"Filch, you may go now. I can take care of Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley from here."

"But...Ma'am." Filch protested. McGonagall gave him a stern look and he walked out. She rounded on the twins. Fred gulped.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S BEARD WERE YOU THINKING?" The professor took a moment to compose herself. "With great disappointment, I am deducting thirty points each from Gryffindor. I have talked Filch out of his suggested six years of detention and he has settled for two months. Your detentions start at the beginning of the term. Additionally, I have instructed the head boy and your brother, Bill Weasley to keep an eye on you. Now, if you will please excuse yourselves I have work to do."

Fred and George walked sheepishly up to Gryffindor tower. Sitting in the common room was Percy Weasley.

"Where have you been all day? I should have kept a better eye on you. Now that you are away from home it is my responsibility as your older brother to watch out for you." He cut off the lecture when Bill Weasley walked in.

"I think that's enough," said Bill. Percy opened his mouth to protest but refrained when he saw Bill's expression. Head held high, Percy stalked up to the third year boy's dormitory. With his absence, Bill turned towards the twins.

"Go to bed." Although the glint in his eye was not gone, it was heavily shrouded by disappointment. "Now." Heads bowed down, the twins headed up to their rooms.

Once in the safety of the dormitory, the two jumped onto one bed and closed the curtains around them.

"So Freddie, what'd you get?" Throughout all day of Filch, McGonagall, Percy, and Bill, this was the question that had been on George's mind. Fred had been wondering the same thing, in the chaos of the day, he hadn't seen what he had taken.

Fred emptied his pockets. There was only one thing. For all the effort and trouble they had gone through, all he had managed to take was a blank piece of parchment. He frantically rummaged through all his pockets. Nothing.

"You have got to be kidding me." George's words pierced straight through Fred's heart. "For the cost of two months of detention and the loss of Bill's trust, all you could take was one grimy piece of parchment?"

"Well, I could've gotten something better if you had given me more time." Fred retorted, hurt and angry.

"You're impossible, you know I couldn't have gained you any more time." George picked up the parchment. "I swear, there better be something-" George gasped. "Fred, look at the parchment."

"What?" Fred snatched it from his brother. Words had spread across the page.

Two out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

"Wow," George whispered. Both had forgotten about their argument. "Okay, what was the last thing I said?

"Um, I think it was 'Fred, look at the parchment." Said Fred.

Zero out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

"Try 'I swear, there better be something."

Two out of ten words correct, keep guessing

"Hey," said Fred, "at least it's a start."

Zero out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

For the next few days, all Fred and George could think about was their next guess. They spent as much time as possible shut up in the dormitory with the parchment. However, Percy was getting suspicious and started following them up to their dorms.

Fred has taken to going to the library with the parchment and opening books at random, desperately guessing the first sentence he saw. This plan only lasted a few days, as Madam Pince would often shoo Fred away with a feather duster.

MORNING OF DECEMBER TWENTY-FORTH

It was the morning of Chrismas eve, and George Weasley sat cross-legged in his bed. They were so close to unlocking it. Just one more word was all he needed. George picked up a school book from his bedside table. Solemnly We March Onwards: An Abridged History of the Goblin Wars.

Solemnly, he supposed the word was worth a shot. George plugged it into the fragmented sentence. The parchment lit up and words covered the parchment.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

"FRED, COME QUICKLY."


	5. An Amused Look

_**MORNING OF DECEMBER TWENTY-FORTH**_

 _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_  
 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_  
 _are proud to present_  
 _THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

George leaped up so fast he hit his head. This was better than all the presents under the tree combined.

"FRED, COME QUICKLY," he yelled. Fred scrambled over to his brother's bed.

"It's a...map?" Said Fred.

"Look closer," said George. "It's Hogwarts."

"Hey Georgie," said Fred, a devilish grin spread across his face, "is that what I think it is?" He pointed to a spot on the map.

"Freddie," replied George, "I think that's exactly what you think it is."

"LET'S GO." The two said to each other and ran toward the Hogwarts kitchens, clad in matching flannel pajamas. Fred and George raced down the tower, through the Great Hall, and followed the map down a small set of stairs in the back. They finally stopped, panting for breath in a small corridor.

Still, life paintings lined the walls, and other than a small pile of barrels at the end, the corridor was empty. Fred pulled out his wand and advanced towards them. He prodded one at random.

Black liquid came spilling out of the barrel.

"Ugh!" He was soaked. Fred sniffed the liquid. "It's...vinegar?"

George, who was vinegar free, laughed while checking the map again.

"Fred, that's the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room." He turned, towards the wall, "The map says the entrance is.." George took a few steps, "...here?" He was standing in front of a large still life of a fruit bowl.

"So, what do we do?" Asked Fred. The map, as if it had ears, answered the question.

 _Tickle the green pear._

Fred, somewhat awkwardly, reached out his hand to tickle the oil painting. The pear wriggled at his touch, squirmed, and finally molded under his hand to become a knob. The painting had disappeared and instead stood a doorway. The two shared a glance and giggled. Fred turned the knob.

The kitchen was gigantic. But before George could take it all in, he felt a tug at his pajamas. George looked down. At his feet stood a particularly small elf with wide eyes.

"SIPSEY!" Shouted an older elf, who came hurrying up, but stopped when she saw Fred and George.

"I am so sorry sirs, can I get you anything?" She dragged Sipsey away. "Sipsey, go get these two some tea and biscuits."

Fred and George were still busy observing their surroundings. Charlie had already explained to them that the kitchen mirrored the Great Hall, but the twins still couldn't quite believe it.

"So sorry for the slow service sirs, it's just that we're in the morning rush." Said the older house elf before bustling off to yell at the others. Soon, everything was ready. With a snap of the elf's fingers, it disappeared to the great hall, where their teachers and classmates were enjoying breakfast.

Fred and George didn't mind that they were missing out. In fact, this was a hundred times better. Sipsey arrived with a large platter.

"This way sirs." She motioned them towards, not the Gryffindor table, but the staff table. Fred, having walked faster, sat at a replica of Dumbledore's chair. George sat beside him at McGonagall's usual perch. They shared a glance, this was nothing like they were expecting.

Sipsey set down the platter, it was overflowing with pastries. Another house elf appeared behind her and brought the twins tea and pumpkin juice. They dug in, Fred and George had been running about the castle all day and hadn't eaten anything.

"This is incredible," Fred muffled through a mouth full of food.

"Yeah, thanks, mate," said George, nodding at the house elves. They bowed before turning and getting back to their work.

The twins sat on their thrones for another hour, munching on pastries and warming up by the fire. When, with a loud knock, Dumbledore entered the kitchen. Fred's mouth dropped, spilling chewed up food. George choked on his tea. Dumbledore merely smiled calmly.

"I see you two are enjoying the hard work put in by our kitchen staff." He said. All the elves had sunk into a low bow when he entered. "Oh, there's no need for that, go about your business," Dumbledore said and the elves rushed off.

"We're so-" Said George.

"We didn't mean-" Interjected Fred.

The two stumbled over their words with each other, all the while Dumbledore gave them an amused look. He took a mug of tea, before turning his back and climbing back through the portrait.

Fred's mouth was still open, and George needed a good thumping on the back before he could breathe again.


End file.
